8 Chapter 8

Addison didn't think twice. She didn't even bother trying to find her walking cane, which she was pretty certain was the item he'd gathered up and brought with him to the apartment when he'd unceremoniously herded her into the elevator. She scooped up her fallen purse and the moment she believed he was clear of the hallway she flew out of the building.

She didn't lock her door either. She had no doubt he had could find his way in and the panic in her heart and mind told her she needed to put as much distance as she could between herself and the brutal head of Tyson King's security. With her purse looped over her arm, she didn't bother counting steps to the stairwell she almost never took, instead feeling her way down the familiar hall and shoving doors until she found one that easily opened under her fingertips.

Addison's breaths came out in panicked gasps as she flew down the concrete steps, her ballet flats lightly slapping each step as she went. She kept both of her hands on the metal railings for balance, but stumbled on each landing anyway as she had no idea how many steps to expect. She couldn't seem to calm herself enough to stop and count them properly either. She kept losing count and either missing steps or jarring her legs when there were no more steps where she expected some to exist.

She told herself to simply calm down and count. After all, she was safe. She laughed out loud, a little hysterically, when she realized she had probably stupidly put herself in more danger by fleeing. But she couldn't seem to stop her full tilt descent into the bowels of the building. She just desperately hoped she wasn't about to launch herself into the arms of a man with a machine gun.

A serious stitch in her side caused her to finally slow down and take stock of her surroundings. She had no clue what floor she was on. Her mad dash must have carried her down several floors. She should be getting close to the ground floor, but she didn't want to come out into the mess that used to the the impeccable lobby. There was a good chance she might run into Daniel Mercer in the lobby. How could she avoid that possibility?

"The garage," she muttered to herself.

She would have to go to the very bottom, until there were no more stairs, and try to find her way out of this maze down there. She hoped it would lead her into the garage, which would lead her out onto the street. And hopefully not into the arms of a bad guy or an angry head of King security. Or hit by a car. She wasn't sure at the moment which option would be worse.

Clutching her side and gasping in lungfuls of ventilated air, Addison forced herself to take calm, measured steps the rest of the way down to the bottom of the building. She took slow breaths, in and out, and came up with a plan. She had to take care of herself, more than an average person. She couldn't just go running out into the street and hope everything would be okay.

Eerie silence greeted her when she reached the last step. Her shoes barely made a sound when they hit the bottom. Only her gasp sounded too loud in her ears. She clutched her denim jacket against her throat and, holding her purse tightly, groped her way along the wall until she felt a door. Praying desperately that it wasn't attached to any kind of alarm, she shoved against it. It gave way under her weight and released her into the dank, oily smelling garage beneath the King Tower condos.

Addison sighed in relief. She turned her face in every direction and decided she could vaguely make out a light source in one of the directions. Lightly running her fingers along the concrete wall, she followed it toward the light. Terrified that she would be stopped, she walked faster as the light grew stronger until she stepped out into the full light of the morning.

It seemed shocking that it would still be Sunday morning after the terrible events that had occurred. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Addison took several purposeful steps away from the building and into the arms of a man. She jumped back with a scream and clutched her purse tightly, bringing a hand up in front of her for protection.

Almost immediately a calm, male voice said, reassuringly, "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't see you there. I was just keeping the sidewalk clear. I didn't know anyone got past me."

The breath rushed from her lungs when she realized he was neither Daniel Mercer nor a depraved gunman. He was most likely a police officer. She pasted on her best 'damsel in distress smile' and dropped her eyes, which had a tendency to make sighted people uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize. I came out through the garage," she said. "I'm visually impaired, which is why I ran into you. I should be the one apologizing."

She felt the moment his professional disposition melted at her helplessness. The fragility she felt at the moment wasn't entirely fake, but she found it helped get her out of certain situations if people thought she was less capable of taking care of herself than she actually was. She hoped he didn't notice her lack of cane or dog. It was pretty unusual for a blind person to walk completely unaided.

"I take it you have no idea what took place in the lobby of your building this morning?" he asked gently, his voice clearly doubting that she would know a thing.

Addison was very glad she wouldn't be expected to meet his eyes. She frowned a little. "No, sir," she said. "Did something happen that I should know about?"

She injected just enough worry into her voice that he stepped closer, drawn to protect her. He patted her shoulder gently and said, "An isolated incident. It's over now, nothing for you to be worried about. Can I help you get somewhere? You shouldn't be walking around by yourself. Isn't that dangerous?"

Addison had to bite her tongue to hold in the instant retort. She wanted to snap that the only dangerous thing she'd done recently is inhabit the same building as a shady billionaire and his uncivilized security chief. She'd never been shot at in her many years of wandering around in the metro downtown area. Instead she gave him her best shy smile and waved her hand around helplessly.

"I had a cab coming to pick me up, but I'm sure with the commotion around here it must've been scared off," she said worriedly, biting her lip and hoping there had been enough commotion to corroborate her story. "I don't know what I'll do now."

He rubbed her arm soothingly. "Don't worry about a thing ma'am, I'll find one for you."

She smiled brightly and gave his arm a grateful squeeze before he could step to the edge of the sidewalk and wave a cab down for her. "Oh, you're so kind! Thank you so much, officer-"

"Jonathon Finely," he supplied quickly.

Within minutes Officer Finley had her comfortably seated in the backseat of a taxi and speeding away from King tower. Addison relaxed against her seat with a sigh. She'd made two narrow escapes that morning!

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